Fifty
by whoufle
Summary: Fifty ways to show her you care. Featuring Eleven and Clara, Ten and Rose and Amy and Rory.
1. Tell Her You Love Her

_1. Tell Her You Love Her_

* * *

Aboard the drifting TARDIS, Clara Oswald was sprawled across her circular bed, engrossed in a book she had discovered in the infinite library down the corridor. She laid on her stomach, propped up by her elbows as her eager chocolate eyes flew over the words. Being so engaged in the plot, Clara hadn't noticed the Doctor sneak into the still room, which was almost silent other than the crumple of pages as the brunette flipped them every few minutes or so.

After watching her read excitedly and gasp at the twists of the storyline for a while, the Doctor pounced onto the bed beside Clara, and she squealed with surprise. Using the book, she smacked him across the arm, pulling an angry face at the Time Lord.

"What you reading?" The Doctor asked, still chuckling a little at his companion's reaction.

"Just something I found in the library." Clara shrugged, closing the book. He took it from her and flicked through the pages within seconds.

"Kinda boring." He put the book back down and turned to Clara with a hint of smugness on his face.

"You did not just read the whole of that book." Clara refused to believe his incredible alien talents went _that_ far. The Doctor didn't reply, just grinned wickedly and shrugged. The brunette sighed, muttering about how impossible he was as she snatched the book back and continued where she left off.

She sensed the tingle of the Doctor's gaze on her face and she let her shoulders slump as she sighed. "Anything you particularly wanted?" Clara looked up at him again, and noticed the wonderful smile playing on his lips as his green eyes shone under heavy eyelids. He ducked his head, looking at the crumpled sheets beneath them.

"Just..." His eyes returned to hers and he smiled. "I love you."

Clara's expression softened and before she could stop it, a warm smile pulled on her lips. She dropped her book and pushed her neck forward to reach his mouth. Holding his neck, she kissed him gently before whispering against his lips.

"I love you too, my ridiculous boy."


	2. Get On With Her Relatives

_2. Get On With Her Relatives_

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" Rory called as he stepped through the Pond's front door. Amy, hands on hips, appeared from the lounge.

"And what sort of time do you call this?" Her lips accidentally tugged into a smile and she skipped over to greet her husband. Holding his neck as his own hand touched the small of her back, the redhead spoke between kisses.

"Don't – be mad – but I may – have invited – my parents over – for dinner."

Rory slumped where he stood, his head falling down to face his feet. Before he let gloom and despair wash over the _whole_ of his features, he straightened and tried a big smile for his wife paired with over-enthusiastic jazz hands.

"Oh, goodie!" His voice dripped with sarcasm which led to Amy playfully punching him in the shoulder.

"Shut up and put a shirt on." Amy kissed his lips once more before turning toward the kitchen to begin preparation for the greatly awaited dinner. Rory, following his wife's orders, rushed up the stairs to change.

An hour or so later and the doorbell rung.

"Would you get it?!" Amy called from the kitchen as Rory finished laying the table. Upon opening the door, he was greeted by Augustus Pond, a short stout man with black hair and small eyes. Rory had never been able to see Amy in her father but her mother was a whole different story. Tabetha Pond was the very image of her daughter, down to the gorgeous orange locks, bright hazel eyes and tall slim figure.

Rory invited them in, kissing Tabetha's cheek and shaking Augustus' hand. Amy appeared in the hallway to greet her parents and as she hugged her mother, she widened her eyes at Rory in a way he could only assume he'd done something wrong. Then she mimed "coats".

"Oh! Coats! Here, let me take them." Rory quickly said, helping Tabetha out of her deep blue jacket. He slung them over the banister before receiving a glare from his wife. He quickly scooped them back up and shot her a helpless look to which she responded with a nod up the stairs.

Rory mumbled something about hanging them up and rushed up the stairs to put them in the couple's wardrobe. When he returned, their guests were in the lounge and Amy was complimenting her mother on her floral blouse. Rory stepped forward and joined in with the intention of getting in his mother-in-law's good books.

"Yeah, I do like the flowers – they're very flowery and... they're just... flowery." His voice trailed off toward the end, leaving his mother and father-in-law watching him with uncomfortable expressions and his wife looking on in horror. Rory clicked his tongue against the roof of mouth, swinging his arms awkwardly. He decided to turn to the only thing capable of saving him now.

"Wine?"


	3. Compliment Her

_3. Compliment Her_

* * *

"Cor, smell that!" The Doctor inhaled deeply, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets as he wandered down the vibrant alien street, Rose in tow. He spun round, walking backwards to observe his companion's response to the incredible view. Rose looked, wide-eyed at the surroundings, absorbing it all.

"And where are we exactly?" Her golden locks gently moved in the warm unfamiliar breeze. The street was lit with bright floating balls of light and the sky was smeared with a beautiful array of shades, from deep crimson to hazy lilac. To Rose's left and right was what looked like infinite lines of stalls, selling all sorts of wonderful and impossible things.

"The ancient planet Panov, been here – well – as long as I can remember."

"So a _very_ long time then."

"Oi!"

"You _are_ 900 years old."

"Fair point. Ooh! Look, look!" The Doctor jumped up and down excitedly in his red Converse, pointing to a particularly strong smelling stall to their right. He rushed over, dragging Rose along behind him. He picked up a glowing purple triangular based prism, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand.

"Taste." He ordered, offering it to Rose. She frowned curiously at the jelly-like object before taking a bite out of the tip. It practically exploded in her mouth, gooey warm liquid filling her cheeks. It was delicious and she finished it within seconds, the sweet taste still lingering on her tongue.

"What _was_ that?" Her eyes were wide as she licked the tips of her sticky fingers. The Doctor flashed a toothy grin, pleased with himself.

"Panovae: the glorified fruit of the planet – see those silver topped mountains way over there? They grow just there in all different colours and flavours. Well sought-after in this part of the constellation of Askzilia, actually." The Doctor babbled on, picking up a luminous blue Panovae in the shape of a sphere and tossing it into the air. He took a bite out of it and Rose noticed the burst of thick sapphire juice as he did so.

"Okay, so hang on, that's a fruit?" The flavour of her own Panovae still persisted on her tongue and she longed for another. Rose itched to know how fruit could taste this good. The Doctor nodded, lowering the blue sphere from his lips.

"Panovian farmers collect them from the depths of the mountains, it's a very popular position on the planet, considering the vast extent of the fruit and their marketability. The cool temperature of the silver snow on the mountains ripens them and thickens the juice." The Doctor grinned, passing a small strip of strange markings that Rose didn't understand to the man behind the stall. She turned to her impossible wanderer, a laugh escaping her lips as she caught sight of his blue lips and stained teeth. She helped him clean up before they continued down the never ending line of stalls.

Rose intently observed the passing Panovians – admiring their long golden gowns and braided hair. Her eyes caught a large market stall burdened with beautiful traditional Panovian dresses that took the blonde's breath away. She rushed towards it, leaving the Doctor babbling away about the history of the planet as he continued down the street.

It took a few minutes of Rose admiring the elegance of the gowns for the Doctor to return to her side again, pretending to look as though he'd been there all along. He watched as Rose's fingers traced the embroidery on the clothing, her big brown eyes fascinated by the beauty of it.

"Would you like to try one one?" The Doctor spoke quietly and Rose looked up, her eyes wide and full of hope. He grinned at his companion before turning to the woman behind the stall. "She'll try this one, please." He requested, gesturing to the beautiful gown Rose clutched.

The woman looked quite young, her sleek black hair falling down her back elegantly, with the occasional braid amidst the darkness. She, too, had a silk gold dress on and it shimmered in the crimson sunlight as she led Rose behind the stall and into a small room lit with floating balls of light. She smiled warmly at her before leaving the room to return to the stall, closing the door behind her.

Rose observed her surroundings. The walls looked as though they were made of long strips of bamboo and the floor was soft and spongy beneath her weight. She began undressing, removing her sweater before slipping out of her jeans and boots. Her toes sunk into the strange substance of the flooring and she worriedly poked a floating light ball that had hovered over relatively close to her head.

Her pile of ordinary boring clothes looked dull and ugly in comparison to the gorgeous gold material she now pulled up her bare curves. Rose had just finished smoothing down any creases over the fabric when there was a sudden knock at the door.

"Can I come in?" The Doctor called, his voice sounding hopeful. His companion granted him permission and the door opened.

The Doctor felt his hearts pause for a brief moment, for there – in front of him – was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He absorbed every inch of her, aware his mouth had fallen open but too engrossed by her perfection to close it.

Rose's gorgeous golden waves framed her small round face, stopping short at her bare shoulders. Her chocolate eyes watched him, hopefully, waiting for a response. He couldn't quite manage one just yet, as his own eyes continued down the dress.

It fit perfectly; clinging to her shape and falling beautifully down her slim naked legs. It was coated in tiny diamonds that sparkled intensely each time she twirled for him. The Doctor's trance lowered even further, to her small bare feet, sinking into the soft flooring. His eyes finally returned to hers and he tried some sort of sentence.

"You look..." Even finding a word to justify her to him was proving impossible. _She_ was impossible.

"Impossible. You look impossible."

"Impossible?" Rose raised an eyebrow and the Doctor felt his chest pang.

"Impossible." He confirmed, gazing at his companion, fascinated by her every trace.

"I'll take that as a compliment." The blonde grinned and the Doctor found himself unable to reply, just simply stare in awe of the beauty in front of him. "I _do_ need to get changed now."

The Doctor straightened suddenly, nodding understandingly and backing out of the room. He bumped into the doorframe – and for some reason apologised for it – before eventually leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

Rose began slipping out of the dress, the small remnant of a smile playing on her lips as she did so.


	4. Be A Good Listener

_4. Be A Good Listener_

* * *

Clara Oswald's expression was not one that should belong to a person in a hammock. She looked glum, her eyes boring into the floor below her as she nibbled on her thumbnail. She rocked the hammock gently, sighing and running a hand through her chocolate fringe.

Suddenly, the Doctor burst through the doors and pounced onto the hammock beside her, causing her to jump. He laughed loudly, settling down comfortably opposite his companion. His smile dissolved, however, and he sat forward upon noticing Clara's shiny eyes and downcast expression.

"Clara, what's wrong?" He reached over the gap between the hammocks and touched her hand. Clara shook her head, dismissing his concern.

"It's silly." She spoke quietly, not particularly wanting him to hear her. But of course, he did. The Doctor grasped her fingers tighter, encouraging her with a warm smile.

"I just miss her." Clara's voice cracked a little and a tear ran down her cheek. The Doctor's expression softened, his thumb running over the back of her hand. He knew instantly who she meant.

"Oh, Clara." He spoke gently.

"The last time I was in one of these stupid things," the brunette gestured to the creaky hammock she laid in, "I was with her. My mum. She was telling me a story; the story about the most important leaf in human history."

The Doctor smiled fondly as he knew the story well – seen it before his own eyes, actually. He lifted Clara's hand to his lips, brushing her fingertips against his lips as though to prompt her. Big brown eyes rose to meet his and a small grateful smile appeared.

"That exact leaf had to grow in that exact way, in that exact place, so that precise wind could tear it from that precise branch, and make it fly into that exact face. At that exact moment. And if just one those tiny little things never happened, Dave Oswald would never have met Ellie Ravenwood. Which makes that leaf the most important leaf in human history."

Clara wept a little more, tears streaking down her cheeks. It was a few minutes before the Doctor spoke.

"To me, Clara Oswald, that leaf is the most important thing in the whole of history itself, let alone humanity's. If it weren't for that leaf, you wouldn't be mine and nor I yours. So I thank my lucky stars every single day for that little leaf and for Ellie Oswald, for she raised the most beautiful young woman I have the pleasure of knowing and loving with all my hearts." His words were slow and careful and by the time he finished, Clara's eyes shone bright and her lips were pulled into a slight smile.

The small brunette leant over the gap between the hammocks and took hold of the Time Lord's face in her hands, pulling his mouth to hers. She kissed his lips over and over, whispering her appreciation in small sentences that didn't make much sense but were all she could manage at the time. The Doctor didn't care. The sensation of her lips locked with his was the only thing that mattered.


	5. Respect Her Accomplishments

_5. Respect Her Accomplishments_

* * *

As soon as Amy heard the click of the key in the front door, she pounced onto the sofa, book in hand, trying to look as casual as possible. She crossed one long leg over the other and began reading from the thick book through her circular reading glasses.

She heard Rory call out a greeting from the hall as he dumped down his bag and walked through to the lounge. Amy mindlessly played with a strand of her bright fiery locks as she continued to read. Rory appeared in the room and bent down to kiss the top of her head.

"Good day?" He asked, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it over the back of a chair.

"You could say that." Amy couldn't help the small smirk that pulled on her lips. Rory stopped, frowning at his wife.

"You're being weird." Rory narrowed his eyes.

"No I'm not. I'm just reading this... really interesting book." Amy raised the book, wiggling it a little to draw attention to it. And then Rory realised. His hands shot up, eyes wide and mouth open.

"Oh my God! They published it!" He grabbed the book, turning it over in his hands. The little story his wife had been building and plotting for the past year or so was finally here, in physical copy. He admired the cover; it had a vintage feel to it and he could tell Amy had definitely had some input. His eyes absorbed the words on the front: "_Summer Falls, by Amelia Williams_", and he felt his chest swell with pride.

He looked down at Amy who was smiling brightly and hopeful before she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Rory's own arms tightened around the redhead's waist as he closed his eyes and buried his face into her shoulder. He then proceeded to lift her and spin her round, grinning as she squealed, demanding him to put her down. They slowed to a stop, still giggling. He felt almost tearful for her and as Amy pulled away, he pressed his lips onto hers. Amy's fingers moved to his cheeks, cupping his face in her hands as Rory held her waist tightly.

Their lips detached and with their foreheads locked, the couple shared a smile.

"Let's crack open the bubbly then, shall we?" Rory grinned, his touch leaving Amy, much to her disappointment. However, she couldn't help but laugh at his eagerness – he'd been waiting for a reason to open the champagne they had been storing in the fridge for months. He returned with two tall champagne flutes and the treasured bottle.

He opened it up, cheering as it popped and the golden fluid leaked out. They filled their glasses and just before taking a sip, Rory lifted his to the ceiling.

"To my beautiful wife. I couldn't be more proud if I tried." He smiled warmly at the redhead.

"And to my gorgeous husband. Try harder." Amy winked, raising the glass to her lips. Rory laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her once more.


End file.
